


If You Must Mourn, Don't Do It Alone

by LorasMartell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: ?? maybe, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, I guess you could say this is a sort of songfic, M/M, Season 4 Episode 3, lil bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 23:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorasMartell/pseuds/LorasMartell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little scene with Merlin while Arthur copes with Uther's death.<br/>Better than it sounds, I swear!</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Must Mourn, Don't Do It Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Title and inspiration taken from Keaton Henson's You.  
> You should listen to it while you read, this I recommend!

The silence in Camelot was deafening. The news of Uther’s death had shocked every single person in the castle, the marketplace and the lower town. Everywhere Merlin went, people were walking around with expressions hard as stone and spoke in hushed voices. From the windows, a faint orange glow could be seen as the townspeople lit candles for their deceased king.

Arthur had shut himself away in the main hall without saying a word to anyone, barely glancing at Merlin or any of the knights that had followed him around, desperate to be of any help to their Crown Prince . Arthur would be crowned soon, now that his father had gone, Merlin mused, some of the King’s Counsel members were determined it be sooner rather than later. From where he stood outside of the great hall where Arthur now hid, he could see two of them discussing the matter.

“-In the next few days, it has to be. We’re vulnerable and as soon as the word spreads that Uther is dead, everyone will soon know it! They will attempt to take Camelot for their own, threatening our lives as well as Arthur's!” One of them hissed, his eyes darting around, searching for some unknown assassin, if the hand resting obviously on his dagger was any indication.

“The King has only just died, Alfred, let the boy grieve for a moment at least. It will be some time before any enemy of Camelot hears word and assembles a force against us and by that time Arthur will be King.” Murmured the other, a man Merlin now recognised to be Lord Stuart. The Lord placed his hand on his companions shoulder and opened his mouth to speak again when the other, Alfred hushed him furiously, having only just noticed Merlin listening to their conversation. Stuart frowned and shifted his gaze to Merlin, raising a brow when he noticed the young warlock was making no attempt to hide that he was listening in on them.

Lord Stuart shook his head and turned back to his friend, “Alfred, you’re being ridiculous now. Merlin is his manservant, he is no spy, this has been proven over and over again. Come now, what you need, my friend, is a large ale.” He paused and glanced back at Merlin, opened his mouth as though to speak to him before deciding against it and nudging Alfred into motion. “Let us leave now.”

Merlin watched the two men leave, rolling his head onto the wall and staring unseeingly at the heavy wooden doors that concealed Arthur from him. He wanted to help his master so bad, offer some words of comfort, he knew what it was like to lose his father, but he couldn't do it. It was his fault. Uther was dead and he had killed him. He’d ensured that Arthur would never allow magic into Camelot.

_Thud_

Stupid.

_Thud_

Stupid.

His head now throbbing from banging it against the stone wall behind him, he slid slowly to the ground, running his fingers over the wonderfully solid floor in an attempt to ground himself. His thoughts were racing around his head so fast he could barely make sense of them. It was all his fault. Arthur hated him. No, Arthur hated Emrys. He hated the magic in Merlin without even knowing it was Merlin. He wondered a little if that would change things, if he told Arthur the truth. No, he decided, it was just make things worse, so much worse, for both of them.

Because he’d killed his father, the King, and in doing so, he’d destroyed the man he loved. Without meaning to, yes, but he’d still done it. Arthur would never accept him now.

He could leave. Go back home to his mother, or go to the druids, maybe. Yes, that’s what he should do, pack his bags and leave while Arthur was unaware. He should. He couldn’t.

The thought of just up and leaving Arthur now when he needed him most. Never seeing him again, his deep blue eyes, the way his hair shone when the sun hit it, his sculpted body that Merlin had spent many a dark night learning every hard line and curve and tracing it with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. He’d never kiss him again, never make love with him.

The young warlock squeezed his eyes shut as tears began to escape, a physical ache bloomed in his chest at the thought of leaving Arthur. Arthur was home, he couldn’t abandon him, it was his destiny to protect him. “Two sides of the same coin,” Kilgharrah had told him when they first met. Hours passed while Merlin sat there, waiting patiently for Arthur to open the doors and let him in. Pain was flaring the small of his back, his legs were growing numb from his position. He didn’t bother moving, taking the uncomfortable aches as his penance for it was nothing compared to the pain Arthur was feeling. Uther may have been a tyrant but he had loved Arthur dearly; sacrificing himself for his son without a moments thought for himself.

He would stay. He must stay. Couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

He heard movement in the hall and blinked his eyes open. The sun had risen, he could see its light illuminating the stairwell above him. A new dawn. The bolt drew back with a resounding thud and the doors were pulled open.

He would stay.

Arthur’s eyes were burning into the back of his head.

He must stay.

Merlin turned to look at his Prince. His master. His beloved. The sun was blinding behind Arthur, making him glow as though he had come from Avalon itself. Merlin rose to his feet, Arthur’s eyes meeting and never leaving his own as he pressed himself close, right against his broad chest. Their eyes didn’t move from the others as they drank in every detail of the others face. Then Arthur shifted, bringing his hand to the back of Merlin’s neck and pulling him in until their lips met so perfectly and they melted into each other, until they were so close they were almost one. Arthur was home.

Couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and/or kudos to show me what you think?


End file.
